


Miracle

by Sierra Roo (SoySierra)



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Drama, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mpreg, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27767608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoySierra/pseuds/Sierra%20Roo
Summary: "Oh Uhtred, you still can't see the importance and majesty of your task. Only few men have been blessed to perform this wonderful miracle.""Fuck the king?"Alfred from Wessex needs an heir. When no noble seems to be the right fit, the task falls to Uhtred.
Relationships: Alfred the Great/Uhtred of Bebbanburg
Comments: 28
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaruruShipsIt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaruruShipsIt/gifts), [TheBrokaryotes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBrokaryotes/gifts).



> Ok, my first attempt at Mpreg. Please be gentle. If someone enjoys the story and wants to leave me love, know that you make the little heart of a writer happy :)
> 
> PS: This story is dedicated to MaruruShipsIt and TheBrokaryotes who inspired me with their great stories!

Ice water is poured over him for the third time. Uhtred felt his breath catch.

"Enough !" He protests indignantly, but he knows his words are vain. The nuns continue their task of scrubbing and throwing water over his body as if he were the dirtiest pig in the barn.

Maybe that's what they think I am ... he tells himself holding his breath in anticipation of the next bucket that will be emptied on his head.

He emerges from the water to find the figure of Beocca in front of him. Since his oath in front of the king, the monk has not removed the ridiculous smile of satisfaction from his face.

“Oh yes, my dear Uhtred. I always knew it! ”He shouts in with open arms, and for a second Uhtred feels the overwhelming desire that he could drown in that barrel.

"You have come to this world for great things!" He whispers close to his face as he takes one of the rags to dry him.

He is not so sure about that. Since he was a child, his life had been nothing but a succession of tragic events. The death of his father at the hands of the Vikings, being kidnapped and raised by those same Vikings, contemplating the death of his adoptive family, to end up asking the mercy of a Saxon king ..

No, it wasn't much like the great existence Beocca professed for him. Some of this seems to translate into his features, as the father continues.

“Oh Uhtred, you still can't see the importance and majesty of your task. Only few men have been blessed to perform this wonderful miracle.”

"Fuck the king?"

The discomfort in the other does not take long to arrive.

“You will take care of that tongue, child. Your task is about much more than that.” As he speaks, he uses the cloth to dry his hair vigorously in a silent attempt to make him see reason.

“You will be the one who helps give life to the future of this nation. To the heir to Wessex and perhaps, someday heaven permitting and the king's wishes come true, the only king of England.”

Uhtred, know this. He knows that the oath in exchange for protection has been to father an heir to the throne with Alfred of Wessex. But that prospect is as absurd to him as the stories old Ravn told when he was over alcohol.

He had seen other men with that rare ability. In a king, this was doubly advantageous since it allowed him to have direct descent and purity in noble blood. However, Uhtred did not know how they would achieve this agreement.

Memories of the solemn and content king the first day he met him are present in his memory. Alfred seemed to tense up every time they shared the same space. The palpable disdain in his ways every time he treated him. So..

How was he supposed to get close enough to accomplish what was needed?

*

Aeslwith speaks to him with a tone that is a strange mixture of discontent and compassion about what she undoubtedly believes will be a humiliating and brutal act towards the figure of the king.

"I have already requested the change of guards and I have requested that another garrison be prepared at the end of the hall. If the savage does something improper, he will be caught without delay.”

"He is not a savage." He retorted, somewhat absent. He has had similar discussions with her since he has made the decision to try to conceive an heir with Uhtred.

"He was baptized by Father Beocca himself." He tries to settle the matter as he slides the white robe over his body.

How many times has he had to put on that ritualistic robe since his reign began? How many failed encounters, how many times have his hopes been shattered?

“My beloved lord king” Now yes, the pain is noticeable in her and Alfred wishes that she could maintain her composure. “It is still time to repent, we can speak with the noble son of the duke ..”

"My dear wife." He cuts her off. He no longer has the strength or the desire to prolong that talk. Keeping trying with nobles only made the news of his inability to conceive spread more and more across the confines of the realm.

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself in case Uhtred's pagan customs supersede his good judgment."

Aelswith watches him for a moment, fighting her need to persuade him. Ultimately, her respect for the king seems to win over her place as wife.

"Of course, my lord."

Alfred dismisses her from the entrance of the castle. It is always like this. The same protocol over and over. The weeks that he remains trying to conceive, the queen will tour the cities of the kingdom. If the conception turns out to be effective, he will be unable to rule the months after birth. She will be the one in charge of the kingdom, so knowing the needs of her subjects in advance is essential.

Aelswith looks at him fondly from the carriage. The worry is already impossible to remove from her features.

Alfred nods to her.

He can't help feeling suddenly lonely.

*

The room vaguely reminds him of his parents' bedroom in Bebbanburg, which only adds to his discomfort.

The bedroom is spacious but lacking in furniture. A dresser there, a room divider, some tapestries on the stone wall, the single bed in the center ...

Uhtred would have sworn that a king would have a richer room, but then he remembers that this place is most likely not Alfred's rooms but a bedroom solely for that purpose.

He is distracted by thinking how many generations of Saxon kings have sought the miracle of an heir in that place when he hears the sound of the door.

Beocca enters the room with the king. Alfred is dressed in a simple white robe like him.

"Lord." He greets him with a nod.

"Uhtred, Father Beocca will bless this union." Announces resolutely as soon as he enters the place and stands next to him.

Alfred conducts himself as he always has. Self-confident.

Beocca recites the words and as he does so, Uhtred takes the opportunity to look askance at the monarch's profile. It is the living representation of devotion and faith. The Dane would even admire him if the strangeness of the scene didn't flood his thoughts.

Having lived in contact with other beliefs gave him a greater perspective. Now he could question things that he had taken for granted in his childhood.

How was it possible that a faith that did not admit sodomy, at the same time blessed what they were about to do? Did the conception of a life somehow eradicate sin?

Seeing the other cross himself brings him out of his thoughts. Beocca finally leaves them alone.

*

As if awakening from a dream, Alfred is suddenly aware of the Viking nature of the man next to him. Uhtred could have been born Saxon, baptized and raised as a boy in customs the same as his own. But it certainly didn't look like one today.

His careless long, flowing hair, and arrogant demeanor, loudly declared his Danish upbringing.

Uhtred might well be able to subdue him as his people had done to the poor Saxons they had encountered in the conquered kingdoms.

The king places his hands behind his body to hide the slight trembling that has assailed him.

"There is wine and some provisions on that table." He points casually with a wave of his hand, in an absurd attempt to put more distance between the two.

He says it out of habit, because it is protocol. No nobleman has ever touched anything offered. As if they feared that trying something was somehow offensive to his person, distracting them from the reason for being in that room.

Uhtred, as he has expected. Is different.

The Dane follows the lead and turns his back to pour two glasses of wine. Alfred takes his politely but barely takes a drink.He must be alert. He does not want his judgment to be clouded.

Uhtred, for his part, drinks his entire glass in one go and quickly fills another.

"I see you were thirsty." He remarks without being able to avoid it.

Uhtred smiles.

"It is not good for omens to waste good wine, my lord."

The Dane empties the second glass as quickly as the first and sets it dry on the table. Then, he turns to him slowly, takes a step in his direction but Alfred backs away.

“What are you doing? "Asks and prays to the Holy Father that the nervousness that he now feels is not translated into his words.

Uhtred looks at him strangely.

“Well, we have to ...”

“There is a protocol to do this, haven't they explained it to you?”

Uhtred does not respond. He remembers that in the many preparations, tips and warnings something was mentioned.

“Well...”

The king raises his hand to stop him. He knows that it is not the fault of the other not to know. That everything has been too rushed and that Uhtred has barely had time to process the situation.

Despite that, the indignation vibrates in his chest. Does the Dane think he is going to ride him like any mare?

Alfred walks away, removes two small vessels with an oily liquid from the dresser, and hands one to him. Uhtred watches him curiously.

"Get ready." He tells him, and as Uhtred still doesn't understand, the king looks down at his crotch.

Oh, that kind of preparation

Uhtred watches him disappear behind the room divider . The strangeness at the situation, fills him completely. Sure, this is what he should do.

Uhtred holds the vessel up to his nose. It does not have any particular odor but he assumes that it will act like the grease Danes often use for such encounters.

Get ready, the king said, and he is suddenly aware that he too must get ready. That behind the thin screen that separates them, Alfred is there placing that liquid inside him to make the task of receiving him, easier. A twinge of excitement is felt in his lower belly.

Uhtred lifts his robe up, anoints his hand with the liquid and begins to masturbate. It's strange, he thinks vaguely, to do it that way. But his youth helps him.

As he does so, he thinks of the king. From day one, Uhtred knew that if it weren't for his annoying personality, he would be a man he would tastefully share a bed with. Alfred was smart and handsome in a way that no Dane ever was.

Certainly, he would be lying if he said that the idea of bending him over one of the tables in his well-loved library had not crossed his mind more than once.

Eventually, Alfred comes out of the protection of the screen. He casts a brief glance at Uhtred's erection and heads toward the bed.

“Very good.” He says, and the Dane thinks it's the first time he's heard him approve him of something.

*

Alfred lies on his back on the bed and unconsciously closes his eyes.

No.

He reproaches himself almost instantly. Uhtred is not like any noble Saxon. He must be careful with him.

“Come here.” He indicates without looking at him.

Uhtred does not. For a brief moment Alfred doubts that he was heard and is about to repeat the order when ...

“Do you really want this?”

It is a simple question and said in a low voice but for the king it has the power to resonate in that room with the power of a thousand broken glass.

Of course not!. A voice within him screams and is quickly replaced by another. Do you really think I want to be fucked by faceless men over and over again? Do you think that my desire is to prostitute myself in exchange for an heir?

Alfred takes a moment to regain his composure.He has taken too long to give himr answer.

“It does not matter what I want but what I must do. This is my duty as sovereign of this kingdom just as it is yours to carry out your task without setbacks.” He places special emphasis on the latter, hoping that the other captures the subtlety.

He doesn't want to say more about it and when he feels the bed sag under Uhtred's weight, he silently thanks God the Dane doesn't keep asking any more questions.

Uhtred is careful and efficient. There is none of the barbaric behavior that both he and Aelswith have feared. It is evident that Uhtred intention is not to hurt him and that affects him in some strange way. He prefers not to think about that too much. He has already learned that in that regard, it is best to simply not think.

When he's done, Alfred stands up and rearranges his robe.

"You will be summoned again in the next few days." He announces without looking at him and leaves the place.

Uhtred remains motionless for a few minutes before getting up. He is suddenly aware that he has had sex with the King of Wessex. A deep unease invades him.

*

The next two encounters occur in the same way. They even acquire a more depersonalized and mechanical tint since now both are aware of the protocol.

The night before their third meeting, Uhtred cannot sleep.

He has felt strange since the first day he began his ritual with the king, but at first the shock and novelty of the affair has not let him figure out exactly why. However now, the reason is inescapable ..

*

Alfred enters the room in a hurry. He has been dealing with the representatives of the towns near Wessex all day. Minor disputes related to land and title disputes. The filler that no king appreciated but to which careful attention had to be paid if the flame of rebellion was not to be lit.

He exchanges courtesies with the Dane and then he goes to get ready. His mind still in the conversation with the noble Sir. Falstaff. He shouldn't have given up so much ground with this fickle-willed nobleman, but he hadn't had a choice. His claim was legitimate.

The bed welcomes him gently when he lies on it and his muscles thank him for the rest after the long day. He would gladly stay there all night, if it weren't for his duty.

“Come closer.” Gives his permission to begin. He only hoped that he could finish that day soon so he could retire to rest.

“No.”

Alfred closes his eyes briefly. For a second, he allows himself to be deluded into the illusion that he has misheard. Uhtred does not come close and the reality of his refusal is present.

Of course..

Of course it was a matter of time before the Dane made trouble. Of course Uhtred would contradict him sooner or later. That's what he had done since they had met. Why would it be different this time?

“Lord, I must refuse to continue. This way we do it “ he points to his robe and his surroundings “It's not natural, it's not ...”

Alfred lets out a deep sigh. Frustration with himself for choosing Uhtred for the task overwhelmed him. Suddenly, he is aware of the full weight of the kingdom on his shoulders. He slowly gets up on the bed to face the Dane.

“Uhtred, I remind you that you have given your promise.”

“I know.”

“ In your circumstances, breaking your word implies that you will no longer have the protection of Wessex against your enemies. You will be expelled from the kingdom.”

Uhtred's expression does not vary.

Alfred feels completely lost. Is it that there is nothing simple in his life? Is it his destiny to live tormented by continuous setbacks?

"What spirit has possessed you now to take such an irresponsible course of action ?! What demon does cloud your mind to contradict every decision I made ...?!"

“I refuse to continue raping you!”

The silence that follows that statement is as dense as one more presence in the room.

"I have given my consent for this." The king answers after a moment because patience is reduced and confusion is great.

"You have." Uhtred answers and his eyes wander momentarily around the room searching for words.

“But it doesn't feel like that. You don't want this. Not really.”

Alfred would laugh if the situation didn't frustrate him so much. He leaps to his feet and leans against the windowsill. His subjects do the last errands of the day to retire to their homes. He feels infinitely tired

"Do you find me repulsive?" Uhtred's voice is too close.

"If you do." He continues and his voice is somewhat strangled, as if those words were difficult to pronounce.

"If you do, I will take responsibility for the consequences. You can imprison me or even throw me at my enemies but I will not continue to do this to you.”

Alfred remains silent. The moon illuminates the whiteness of his robe giving it a dreamlike appearance that contrasts with the tension in his posture.

“But if you don't, I can help you. I can make this different. I can make you feel better ...”

The silence echoes again between the two. For long minutes no one says more.

Uhtred remains there, waiting for some sign but the king does not reveal his thoughts. After a while, Alfred turns around and without a word, walks past him to leave the room.

From the narrow hallway, Uhtred can hear his soft, monotonous voice.

“Arrest him.”

To be continue..


	2. Chapter 2

The cell is slightly larger than the one designated for him and Brida months ago and is located in the castle dungeon which makes it less prone to stares and the elements. They are small consolations in a destiny that becomes increasingly rugged.

There are no other prisoners there. The darkness is barely held in check by a small torch in one corner. It is a gloomy place, undoubtedly destined for psychological torment. Uhtred stretches as far as the rusty bars will allow.

How had he ended up in that position? From being a noble in Northumbria, to being in that cell, locked away by a Saxon king?

_Aethelred rules Wessex. He and his brother, Alfred, can help you._

Beocca's words as a child ring mockingly in his mind. Yes, certainly King Alfred had helped him but at what cost ...

_A price you refused to pay. Now your great stubbornness has become your sentence._ Uhtred sighs at his thoughts.

Taking what they wanted was a deeply ingrained custom in the Danish people. Lands, treasures, people… Uhtred had become accustomed to all of them except the last one. He had never felt comfortable watching his Viking brothers take men and women against their will. It just didn't feel right.

A drop slips from time to time through one of the bars of the cell. Uhtred takes it in one of his fingers and brings it slowly to his mouth.

Perhaps his stubbornness had led him to where he was now. He thinks while receiving that little blessing between his lips.

But certainly, despite the discomfort, he would be able to sleep with peacefull thoughts that night.

*

He is in the middle of his prayers when he perceives the doors of the chapel open. Alfred remains kneeling with his hands in the form of a prayer. Beocca nods to him before sitting next to him.

Only the crackle of the candles on the altar interrupt the sepulchral silence. After a few moments, the king crosses himself and stands up.

“My Lord.”

He closes his eyes suppressing a smile. Beocca had taken a long time.

“My Lord, I'm sorry to interrupt your moment of communion with God, but I need a word with you ..”

Alfred watches him for a moment and then takes a seat on one of the benches.

“Go Ahead.”

“Sir, I couldn't help noticing that Uhtred has been in the dungeons for three days.”

A little pause. The king makes a gesture with his hand.

Beocca hesitates. The eternal internal battle between defending his beloved child of Bebbanburg and loyalty to his king. Finally, he decides on the first option.

“Lord, was the offense so great to take such a drastic measure?”

Alfred is silent for long seconds. The question is tricky and he has been thinking about it for a long time these days.

Has Uhtred offended him with his words?

He had certainly left a deep impression on him.He did not expect it. Such an approach ...

But when Uhtred said he was refusing to rape him, it was as if a horrendous reality was beating down on him. Suddenly the nausea he had felt that first day that a nobleman had touched him in this way, the rejection he felt when he saw himself in a reflection, the elusive dream after each encounter ...

Uhtred had been disrespectful and daring. But that boldness showed him a reality to which he had been blind.

What difference did it make if he consented the encounters as monarch? What difference did it make if there were guards posted outside the rooms to guard him?

He had been doomed since the crown had been placed on his head. He was obliged from that first day to have an heir or the kingdom would fall with him. He didn't need any man to force him as he would make himself bound by his duty. A cruel irony ..

So then..

What to do?

He had imprisoned Uhtred to buy time. He had needed those days to gather his thoughts and come up with a plan. He was a man of strategies and had made his decision before the intervention of the elderly father.He could only thank heaven that Aelswith was not in the city at the moment. Otherwise, his judgment would have been clouded by her words. She would never accept what he was going to do.

“Lord, is it not possible that Uhtred's actions can be justified by his pagan upbringing and not by bad faith towards you? Other customs in relation to such a sensitive issue can often be taken as an offense, when it is just ignorance..”

Beocca continues, the nervousness in his words is increasingly noticeable. He has misinterpreted his contemplative silence for anger and now seeks a way to save the head of his protégé. He does not need it.

“I have meditated on it.” Says the king finally to get him out of his misery. “Taking into account your loyal service to the crown and my appreciation for you, I will give him another chance.”

Beocca opens his mouth ajar without being able to get out of his amazement, without a doubt he expected to have to defend Uhtred in a long talk full of arguments but no.

“Thank you Lord. He's a good boy, I'm sure he didn't mean to offend .." He babbles, still incredulous.

Alfred nods his head. He crosses himself again and leaves the chapel.

*

The guards escort him rudely. Uhtred is sure they imagine that he has humiliated their pious king in some way. He doesn't blame them. He is a wild pagan to their eyes.

He feels somewhat weak. The food has been meager during those days of captivity.

When they go out into the corridor he expects to see the gallery of the palace and then the large wooden doors that lead to the outside but it is not like that. Intrigue fills his thoughts as they continue down more and more corridors.

He doesn't understand, why isn't he being expelled from the kingdom?

When they finally arrive in a room similar to the library but smaller in size, questions swirl in his mind like a swarm of bees.

The guards leave him there and then leave the place. Uhtred looks around. Books and scrolls stacked on shelves. On the table in the center, carefully placed, are a variety of dishes. A jug with wine on one side and two chairs.

"You can serve yourself whatever you want." The king points out from one of the corners.

Uhtred is slightly surprised. He had not noticed him when he entered. He observes lean meat and lustrous fruit with a voracious appetite but doesn't come close. With Alfred he had learned the hard way that everything could be a trap. Instead, he chooses to fold his arms without taking his eyes off the king.

He's thin, too thin, Uhtred notices when he sees him. The cheekbones stand out sharp on his features. Perhaps he has not been the only one who has not eaten well these days.

Alfred sighs and takes a seat. The food arrangement did not really hide an ulterior motive other than a little apology. But he understands the suspicions in the other.

He is not hungry but to dispel misunderstandings, he takes a grape and brings it to his lips. Then he turns his gaze to the Dane with intent.

“I'm willing to listen to what you have to say ..”

*

The tapestry is dull from the passing of the years. The gold embroidery barely standing out above the lackluster colors. In it, a king is seen holding a sword towards the sky. On each side, three smaller figures.

"King Ecbert of Wessex." Alfred points out as he enters the room. Uhtred notes that he is also dressed in the ritualistic robe.

“My great-grandfather was one of the great founders of this kingdom.”

The king stands next to him, gently running his fingers over the tapestry.

“He was able to father six children, of which only two survived. Later, they gave rise to the bloodline for which I am here.” His expression turns grim as he considers the future of his nation if he was not even capable of to have one.

"What will happen if there is no heir?" It is as if Uhtred has read his thoughts.

Alfred considers the question for a moment. The answer is clear to him but the horrors of its consequences have always kept him from saying his fears out loud.

“Anarchy.” He says finally letting out his most intimate fear.I could name an heir, of course ...”

He is encouraged to continue because suddenly, he feels little comfort in sharing his fears with someone else.

“However, my accession to the throne has already been an event contrary to current customs. As a consequence, my heir's reign would hang by a thread too weak to sustain. The fights for the crown would tear the kingdom apart.”

Uhtred watches him attentively to his every word.

“Wessex would fall and with it the dream of a united England.”

Silence falls on them. The monarch's anguish is almost palpable.

“I'll help you.” Uhtred promises it vehemently.

“Wessex will not be left without an heir. I assure.”

Alfred smiles briefly. The fact that it is a promise to him and not to his kingdom makes Alfred somehow want to believe him with all his heart.

That night when the ritual takes place is different. 

_No protocols .._

Uhtred's words spoken in the library echo in his thoughts as he slowly lets himself be undressed.

_Do you find me repulsive?_

Uhtred guides him gently to the bed.

_No._

Alfred lets himself be done. His attention is pending on Uhtred's movements. He feels a slight tremor of anticipation assail him but he cleverly suppresses it. What could Uhtred do to hurt him more than the situation he was in already hurt him? He had come to that conclusion in the days of the captivity of the Dane.

That thought, in a way, was liberating.

Uhtred enters him with the usual cadence. However, on this occasion, his movements are different. Alfred feels him differently inside. His manhood goes in and out of himself erratically until in one of the thrusts an unknown sensation shakes him from his belly. He sees Uhtred smile. He continues that way.

Alfred places one hand on the Dane's chest and the other on his mouth to slow down the vocalizations that seek to come out of his throat like treacherous enemies. A pleasure never experienced takes his body and his mind becomes a confusion of half-asked questions.

Uhtred also behaves differently. The efficiency and disaffection of the previous days has given way to a closer version of himself. While he thrusts him, his hair occasionally covers his face in disarray and the sweat makes his skin glow from the effort.

He knows he's close to finishing and suddenly he feels one of Uhtred's hands reaching for his manhood. Instinctively, he rejects him in sudden fear. Uhtred slows down the pace and connects his gaze with his. Although Alfred searches vehemently, he cannot find anything evil and wicked in his gaze.

_I just wish this was better for you .._

The king releases his hand allowing contact. When the dane's fingers close in rhythm with the thrusts, Alfred can't feel that there is more room in his mind for questions.

*

When Uhtred leaves his legs are still shaking. It feels uncomfortable. It is the first time that he has had the chance to come since he began to practice that ritual and the vestiges of his pleasure have stained his tunic.

That has been...

It has been different and that confuses him. He had never thought of this more than his duty. Another responsibility that fell on his back as the crown had. An unwanted but necessary situation.

But now..

Now that Uhtred had come into his life, it was somehow different. Everything in his contained and organized strategy was turned upside down by the irruption of the Dane.

And yet ...

Something beyond all logic made him trust him. He had followed his advice in other situations and they had paid off. There was something about him that made him different from the rest.

Perhaps that was why he had chosen him especially among so many other nobles.

Maybe..

He clutches the cross around his neck silently asking for the guidance of his God.

To be continue...


	3. Chapter 3

“You have been very lucky. Those lands have the best corn crops in the area.”

The beer mug thumps heavily against the table. It is audible even above the murmur in the tavern.

"Well, it was just his duty." The voice is thick with drunkenness. The words slip one after the other.

“The king needs to do his best to win the approval of the nobles ...”

"He's just a usurper!"

Uhtred stops the mug halfway to his lips. The conversation going on a few tables behind him was no longer irrelevant to him. Sneakily, he observes them in profile. An elderly man with a large belly talks to what appear to be two young noblemen in his charge.

"Lord Falstaff, please lower your voice!" One of the boys whispers, suddenly aware of his surroundings. "They could punish us for that."

"Bah!" The other protests, shaking the mug of beer and splashing everywhere.

“Aethelred and his father. They were true kings. They brought glory and bliss to this kingdom. Instead, this king ...”

He says it in such a contemptuous way that Uhtred can't help but grasp the hilt of his sword.

“This king has filled this place with Danes. He invites them to our lands, gives them gifts and even ...” His voice becomes lower but still Uhtred can read his lips.

“He has even invited one of them to his bed. It's blasphemous!”

“God have mercy.”

“Mercy..”

Both young men cross themselves in a quick and nervous gesture.

“Oh yeah! I bet you anything that if young Prince Aethelwold had been king, none of these things would have happened.”

Uhtred leaps to his feet and is ready to face the charlatans' table when the sound of the bells stops him. Suddenly the whole tavern is standing up and heading for church. The Mass of the day is about to begin. Uhtred watches the boys help old man stand up and head to church.

He decides to follow them. If they were plotting to rise up against Alfred, he should be aware of their supporters.

He follows them at a safe distance mixed in with the crowd. Many people attend mass so he makes sure he has a place inside the palace.

While Father Beocca displays the items to begin the ceremony, Uhtred keeps an eye out for the trio of potential conspirators. The old Lord makes a remarkable effort to stay awake, but notices the young men briefly talk with what appears to be a veteran warrior. He doesn't like it.

A possible alliance of traitorous nobles with the army could be dangerous for Alfred's government. Unconsciously, he looks for him.

He can see the king standing on the first benches. His dignified posture and saintly demeanor contrast dramatically with his appearance the night before. Having the king under his body in such a different way from how their first night had been had shown him that there was an attraction between them, although the other will try to deny it.

Beocca begins the mass and recites the holy words.

Meanwhile, unchristian thoughts flood Uhtred's mind. The clear image of himself subduing Alfred at the altar in front of all his vassals assails him at times.

An elbow takes him out of his passionate musings. Beside him, a man looks at him with intention. Uhtred realizes that he is the only one standing when everyone is kneeling.

*

“Uhtred.”

The king's voice stops him halfway out of the place. There are too many people. He looks for the trio of nobles with his eyes but cannot find them.

“I must say it was a pleasant surprise to have you with us this morning.”

The king continues to speak to him, his attention is still on his concerns so he has barely managed to hear him but when he turns to him he sees that a gentle smile is being directed towards him.

"I appreciate it, Lord." The guilt weighs on him for what Alfred believes, is a sudden interest in religion.

"Although, I must admit that I have been moved more by curiosity than by devotion." He answers ambiguously. Certainly, a half truth was better than a lie.

"Oh, curiosity is good." The king points out, stepping aside to let the devotees pass. "It can teach us many things about ourselves."

Uhtred watches him questioningly. Alfred has not stopped smiling and for a moment he feels a genuine interest in his religion if it was capable of making him worthy of that smile.

*

Uhtred decides that the best way to avoid a conspiracy is to keep an eye on the main rival of Alfred's reign. His nephew Aethelwold.

To him, Aethelwold was just a buffoon without any value on his own. However, he could be perfectly used as a pawn to raise the banner of the revolution.

Fortunately, he is not difficult to locate. The young man had a well-known predilection for taverns and prostitutes. Aethelwold was well received by the lower classes and his association with bandits and thugs was not exactly a secret.

Uhtred watches him from afar. It would always be a mystery to him how that dangerous opponent was still alive. Had he lived in Danish society, the boy would certainly have been wiped out of sight as soon as his uncle assumed the throne.

Perhaps Alfred was not totally immune to his affections, he muses.

Hours pass slowly until he finally confirms what he suspected. One of the young nobles enters the tavern and goes directly to the prince's table.

The exchange takes several minutes. From that distance Uhtred is unable to hear the conversation but does not need to. As soon as the young man gets up, he goes to the table.

Aethelwold greets him with exaggerated joy, opening his arms wide.

"Oh, but here is the the king's new favorite! My dear Uhtred, what brings you to these mundane places when you could be sampling the delicacies of the castle?”

The second intention in the phrase is palpable and Uhtred rolls his eyes, summoning all his willpower not to hit him at that very moment. Dealing with the insolent prince had always been a headache.

“I could ask you the same.”

"Right." He smiles. That crooked, malicious smile so drastically different from Alfred's that morning.

"Perhaps the castle is not for everyone." He observes it with intention. “Oh! But where are my manners? Sit down, sit down, there's room for everyone!” He shouts sitting the prostitute next to him on his lap.

“I suppose it's exhausting watching me for so long and you've finally decided to come over to chat .."

An alarm goes off in Uhtred's head. Danger. That guy might look like an idiot but he wasn't at all. He decides to go frankly.

"Very well, I've been watching you, so I'll be direct. Are you planning to betray your uncle King Alfred?"

Hearing the word betrayal, the prostitute who was comfortably sprawled on the prince jumps up. Despite his attempts to stop her she walks away from the place "Oh no my dear, I don't want to hear about betrayals" Aethewolf pouts.

"Well, you saw what you achieved with your accusations!" He exclaims crossly, drawing the beer mug to his lips.

“Aethelwold ...”

The threatening tone and his hand on the hilt of his sword seem to be enough to clarify the ideas of the other.

“Of course I am!”He responses irritated.

  
  


“I think that's obvious even for a wild boy like you. And by the way, it wouldn't be a betrayal. My uncle is nothing but a usurper, I am the true King of Wessex. He did nothing but take away what was rightfully mine.”

Aethelwold continues his effusive speech splashing beer in all directions. Uhtred doubts what action to take. It was no mystery that the young man was against Alfred, now openly conspiring against him and confessing it that way. It was unnerving.

"Now ..." He belches loudly before continuing. "Your sudden interest in my uncle's well-being is certainly admirable coming from someone who was raised most of his life with Danes."

The crooked smile grows wider and wider with each word, making the scars on his face more noticeable.

“Could it be that his charms between the sheets are so powerful? Maybe sleeping with everyone is finally his political strategy to rule ...”

Uhtred expected that. He was aware of the sharp tongue of the prince and the rancor towards the king. He was aware that from one moment to the next he would insult him and still ...

Still, he finds himself flipping the table to the side and pouncing on Aethelwold in a scene that scandalizes the entire place. He is blinded by an explosive fury that comes from somewhere within himself of which he had no record. "He will not speak ill of him" "No one can hurt Alfred" He finds himself thinking.

He is barely aware of the guards seeking to separate him from the prince. When they finally manage to retain him to take him out of the place, he sees that the other dismisses him with a bloody smile.

*

His footsteps echo through the dark corridors. He often avoided going down to the dungeons. The humidity and cold of that place used to linger in his thoughts after leaving them, but this time he had no choice.

Alfred dismisses the guard who escorts him with a wave of his hand. The warrior hesitates for a moment to leave his highness in that place but finally obeys the order.

Uhtred stands up when he sees him. 

  
  


Alfred evaluates him. Uhtred looked like a caged animal, his hair matted and his clothes stained with his nephew's blood. For long seconds no one says anything.

“Lord..”

A wave of his hand stops what, he is sure, is a desperate justification for his actions. Alfred slowly walks up to the cell.

“Fool of me, that I believed that your actions led you down the path of faith.”

  
  


There is something in his voice besides reproach. A frustration that shouldn't be there.

Uhtred briefly closes his eyes. He hated to ruin the king's hopes like that. Being an eternal source of disappointment for him generated a discomfort that grew the more he got to know him.

“Lord, I can explain, I was ...”

"You were accusing my nephew of being a conspirator against the crown."

"BECAUSE IT IS!" He interrupts him, forgetting any protocol, because he could not believe that Alfred allowed danger so close to him.

“He has confessed, he plans to betray you!”

Alfred looks at him again for a long moment. What fever had racked his mind to choose such an undisciplined man to beget the future of Wessex?

"Uhtred, you have spilled royal blood." He rebukes him with extreme coldness.

The Dane rolls his eyes. It would always be a question of form with him and not of substance.

“I did it. I certainly did it because he is against you and your reign ..”

“Aethelwold has always been against me since I took the throne of his father because he knows that it was right. This is a civilized nation that does not execute those who are not in favor of its government if they do not represent a danger.”

Uhtred clings to the bars out of a strong desire to reach out to the king and shake him to see reason.

“BUT HE DOES!”

His voice reverberates in the dungeons causing the guard stationed behind the door to enter to assess the situation. The king nods his head indicating that everything is fine. With a last contemptuous look at the one who undoubtedly judges a wild Dane, he comes out again.

"He does represent a danger." Uhtred continues calmer. His hands continue to hold the bars tightly, although what he really wants is to take the red robe of the monarch a few steps from his person.

“He has been associated with other nobles ..” He searches his mind for names. “Lord Farstaff, two young men, a warrior ..”

“The Wellington brothers, Lord Brunswick, Lord Byron, Lady Bluewell ...”

Alfred continues to recite names. Uhtred gapes at him.

“None of them with the power, money or influence to present a real threat. That Aethelwold conspired with them gives purpose and order to his erratic behavior. A reminder will be enough to put them back in place.”

Uhtred is momentarily speechless. He had underestimated the true knowledge Alfred had of his surroundings.

"But how can you know, Lord? How can you be sure that they will not rise up against you in the future? Wouldn't it be better to take action against them now?"

Alfred sighs suddenly aware of the age difference that separated them. That road reviled the impetus and fierceness of youth.

“Many people disagree with my reign. I can't jail them all. I've learned that my decisions will be questioned from the day I ascended the throne in such an unconventional way.”

Uhtred watches him sink into thought. A deep regret invades him.

He was the one in the cage at the time and still had more freedom than the king. He was sure that given the choice, Alfred would not have chosen to become ruler either. It had been the total and utter incompetence of the heir that had forced him to do so.

Uhtred could still decide his fate but he ... The crown would weigh on his shoulders until the end of his days.

The king sighs, the darkness drawing strange shadows on his face making him appear suddenly older.

"It was a mistake in judgment to have chosen you for such an important task." He comments more to himself than as a reproach to the other and Uhtred feels a solid weight on his stomach. 

  
  


Little time was left until the days for conception were over, and Uhtred had remained locked up for most of them. Internally, he regrets to have fallen into Aethelwold's game. Just now that they had reached an agreement with the king. That their relationship was beginning to take a more civilized course.

"I was just looking to protect you." He says impulsively, when he sees that the other is about to leave. His pale little figure in the dark dungeons.

Alfred watches him in profile with a slight nod.

He is sure of his good faith, just as he is also sure that Uhtred's interest in him was beginning to be dangerous for both of them. He was not unaware that their meetings, ritualistic and forced, were slowly beginning to take on another turn. Uhtred was too outspoken when it came to interacting. He had to be careful not to get too involved.

“Even so. You will stay here until I define what to do with you.”

To be continue..


	4. Chapter 4

With an absent gesture, Alfred takes the letter out of his pocket. Reread what it says. That information had been in his possession for days. He had been debating what to do with her ever since.

The maid looks at him with concern, noticing his lack of appetite. The broth in the morning was not exactly the tastiest meal of the day, but he had never had so much trouble finishing it

“Isn't it to your liking sir? I can request they prepare something else ..”

Alfred raises his hand, shaking his head.

“The broth is perfectly appropriate. I'm afraid my mind has been too busy to eat, lately. No need to worry.”

He lifts the wine glass to bring it to his lips. He momentarily sees his reflection on its golden surface. Certainly the lack of appetite was taking its toll on his body. The deep shadows under his eyes were already too noticeable.

He is about to try another spoonful when a guard walks into the room.

"Lord, it is Sir Falstaff. He arrived this morning and is refusing to leave until he has an audience with you.”

Alfred sighs, letting the spoon sink into the liquid. He would deal with this matter as soon as possible. Maybe that way he could eat again in peace.

*

The hall is crowded, much of his court is already there waiting their turn to deal with their affairs. Alfred visualizes Lord Falstaff in one of the corners. As he does so, his gaze briefly meets Uhtred's who has also been biding his time to speak with him.

Oh yeah, Uhtred ..

After the audience with the main nobles of the room, he would have to dictate his sentence. In spite of himself, after his offense, the Dane could not continue in the kingdom. Alfred did not doubt his intentions but too many people had witnessed the direct attack on the royal family. Failure to take action in this regard could be interpreted as an act of weakness, especially given Uhtred's relationship with the Danes. He had no other options.

_It is not about what I want, but what I must do._

A strong dizziness assails him suddenly. The meager breakfast and fasting days begin to take their toll on his body. He deals with it subtly, clinging to the throne. The place is spinning but he refrains from returning the little content of his stomach.

He can feel Beocca's gaze on him but he starts the meetings before the father can inquire about his condition. It would certainly be a tiring day.

*

The hours seem to pass extremely slowly. One after another, his vassals present their claims, disputes and concerns. He listens to them as much as he can. His mind often wanders. He is extremely tired and must often seek the assistance of his counselors when his attention becomes dispersed to the point that he cannot keep up with the conversation.

His attention returns again and again to Uhtred. Towards the prospect of having to expel him from the kingdom. Those thoughts intermingle with others, more troublesome. Others involving the Dane and his behavior when they were alone. In an unconscious gesture, he crumples the letter in his pocket.

“Sir, it is Lord Falstaff's turn.”

The king stirred on the throne, his posture straightened. In annoyance, he pushes away the thoughts that have distracted him thus far. He must be lucid for that conversation. With a wave of his hand, he urges him to come closer.

"Lord Falstaff, I have been informed of an alarming development relating to your recent acquisition of the lands in Dorchester."

The old lord seems to undo with every step he takes until he is in front of him. His sweaty persona only makes his nervousness evident. Alfred has waited to hear from the last of the nobles before addressing him. Only he and Uhtred remain in the room at this point and he would gladly address the Dane first if that were not a serious offense in protocol.

"My Lord." He bows his head in a reverence that is not quite such. "You have undoubtedly been informed bad. Lies are the language of the less fortunate. A sovereign like yourself should ignore unscrupulous rumors.”

Alfred lets him speak for a moment. His associations with Aetewold were no secret to him and neither was his contempt for his reign. He had been right the first day when his instincts warned him against giving him those lands.

“Nevertheless, I am aware that you have acquired these lands with false titles and documents. That the nobility of your blood does not link you with those rights. What do you have to say about this?”

The old man rubs his sweaty hands on his clothes. His face turning redder by the minute.

"Slanders! It's totally false, I am not ...!"

They are not. Both he and Falstaff know it. His words only prolonged the inevitable.

"Lord Falstaff” He cuts him off."You will be deprivated of your lands immediately.”

The red on the old man's face pales in that instant.

“On the other hand, your associations and comments against the crown obligue me to make the decision to also strip you of your titles and the benefits that they entail.”

Perhaps he would not choose to clamp down on Aetewold. But he could undoubtedly dissuade all those who saw him as a possible ally against the crown. His gaze reconnects with Uhtred's. A short nod. For a moment, he feels a deep connection with him.

A sharp vertigo assails him again diverting his attention from the room for a moment. His hands grip the throne and although he is sitting he feels as if he cannot keep his balance.

“Lord, are you ...?”

Beocca can't finish formulating his concern when a hideous roar fills the room. Still dizzy, Alfred can barely react when he sees the old and obese Lord heading like an embroiled hurricane towards him.

Everything is too fast.

The guard escorting Uhtred seeks to hold him back, but it is as if the man was possessed. He gets rid of him with an attack that goes straight to his eyes. The blind guard falls to the ground holding his face.

“Desperation transforms people. Fear the cornered man.” His father had told him once. Now he regretted not having remembered his advice.

Falstaff removes a sharp dagger from his robes and charges at him with the last vestiges of his days as a knight. Alfred can't react in time, nobody does, except ...

Uhtred holds him from behind with all his might. The old man resists, totally taken by the violence of his emotion. Uhtred feels a strong blow to his right thigh but dismisses it. All his attention placed on his arms that hold the torso of the deranged knight to slow his advance. 

They wrestle like that for a few minutes until Uhtred can put his arms around each other's neck. After that, it is only a matter of a few minutes. The Dane lets go only when he can hear the last gasps of suffocation.

The adrenaline still runs through his body . He can only come to himself when he hears the voice of the king. It does not matter that the threat is defeated at his feet. The confusion and unpredictability of what they have just experienced still clouds his senses. He needs to know..

“Lord, are you okay?”

Alfred nods his head, Beocca has managed to step in front of him like a human shield, disbelief still on their faces. For a few seconds only their gasps are heard mixed with the sobs of the fallen guard. Uhtred watches him, he's just a boy. He is about to head towards him when the king's voice stops him.

“Uhtred. You're bleeding.”

He watches him but his gaze does not go to his face but lower. Uhtred follows it. A large red spot covers his entire leg.

Oh, that blow ... there's too much blood.

*

The curtain moves slowly as a result of a wind that does not finish defining whether it wants to become a storm. Uhtred watches the soft swaying of the cloth as he loses and regains consciousness at intervals. Every moment that passes in the dark is equivalent to hours. He knows it by how the environment varies according to the sunlight. Yellow, orange, red, blue ...

Colors are his only guide in that place.

What place is that? That is a good question.

At night the curtain shakes. It was finally a rain wind. A young lady rushes to close the window. He tries to get her attention, but when he does, the girl gets scared and runs out of the place.

When he refocuses, the orange sunset light illuminates the whole place giving it a sharpness that makes him dizzy. Everything is too bright. With one of his hands he covers his face and observes where he is through the crook of his arm.

The palace..

Of course, he must have guessed it from the curtain. This was properly a curtain and not the simple piece of cloth typical of Wessex cabins.

Uhtred assesses his condition. His hands feel his body until they meet the bandages on his leg. Outside of that, there are no more wounds that he can recognize.

“You had been very lucky. A little deeper and that dagger could have taken your life.”

Uhtred is startled. Cursed that place and its secret corners. The healer approaches with a frown. Undoubtedly, he considered that caring for a barbarian was not among his duties.

He tries to get up but feels everything spin around him.

"I feel dizzy." His voice is weak and thick.

“It's logical.” The man approaches and examines the bandage on his leg.”You have lost a lot of blood. It will take a few more days to recover.”

“How long have I been here ?!”

Uhtred is suddenly aware of the hours lost. The cycle with Alfred was about to be completed. He had already lost too many days in captivity. He needed to get out of there.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

The dane crawls between the covers until he can put his feet on the ground. His body sways dangerously but he doesn't care.

"You can't get out of here! Hey!"

The healer seeks to stop him but he does not want to know anything about it. 

*

The letters blend into one another in the document, so Alfred has to frequently look up to refocus. It was late and all the scribes had retired to rest, but he was still engrossed in reading the reports of his spies in the region.

After the episode with Lord Falstaff and the attempted attack on him, he had had to seriously reconsider his position regarding the conspirators.

Alfred stretches, looking away from the small window of the library. Certainly if it hadn't been for Uhtred's quick intervention, he might not be there at the moment. What would have happened to Wessex then?

He rubs his eyes, irritated, and refocuses on the document. There, were the names of all the vassals whose loyalty had proven doubtful. He would demand tests of loyalty from each of them and ...

The commotion outside the room makes him lose track of his thoughts. In annoyance, he stands up just as the library door swings open.

“Lord!”

Uhtred, wrapped in what appears to be a sheet, stumbles into the room alongside the castle healer.

“Lord, I tried to stop him but he ..!”

At the same time, the footsteps and the loud voice of the guards of the entrance.

Alfred can't help the pang of relief he feels when he finally sees the other awake. It had been days of great concern for him and the death of Uhtred would have been a heavy burden on his conscience. However, he cannot let any of that show.

"Enough! What's all this ?!"

Uhtred stops the guards by placing the scandalized healer as a makeshift shield between them and himself.

"Lord, please!" The warrior pleads, rearranging the sheet over his body. "I have to talk to you. It is urgent!”

All eyes are on him awaiting his verdict. Alfred is aware that a word from him would make Uhtred leave that room, the castle, his life ...

For a moment he considers it. Why continue to deal with that savage Dane? Why see his authority challenged again and again for his insolence? Why continue to allow him to insult his God with his pagan ways, with his dangerous affection ...?

*

When Uhtred sees the king nod slightly he feels hope bubbling up in his chest again. That close encounter with death had revealed something to him that he had only had glimpses of until now. His relationship with the king went beyond respect, duty, and even mere physical attraction. Alfred aroused much deeper feelings. He had been willing to die for him and although he knew their relationship would be doomed from any point of view, he could not turn back what he felt.

The guards remain in place, but the healer retreats, whispering insults towards him.

"Lord, I made a promise and I am willing to keep it."

To be continue...


	5. Chapter 5

His leg reproaches him for the effort. A stabbing pain has accompanied him since he began to walk but he denies it as well as the weight on his chest in the face of the uncertainty of not knowing how to act.

A silent despair has grown in him throughout the days.

What if they couldn't?

The question appears in his thoughts as he walks the corridors that lead him to the room. Just one more time. He had only one meeting left. He could never approach the king like that again.

In his current situation, that prospect presented itself to him as a new kind of pain. In his life he had never experienced the impossibility of being with the person who loved. No one had rejected him, which had caused him to gain an excessive confidence in himself that had later become part of his personality. In that aspect, he had been fortunate.

And yet, that was not what disturbed him most about the situation. But something else ..

If Alfred couldn't conceive at the end of their cycle together, he would have to go back to the beginning. Surrender to others, submit again.

The very idea filled him with a helplessness that turned to rage. He would gladly kill anyone who wanted to get close to him like that.

“Uhtred, are you sure you can do it?”

Alfred looks at his leg. The pain doesn't subside for an instant but he nods anyway. He does not feel able to speak. Suddenly, the urge to get the other out of there is too strong to think of anything else. Kidnap him, free him from the heavy burden of the crown and Wessex mandates. Form a life together, away from everything.

"Very good." Alfred disappears behind the screen.

Uhtred sighs. The certainty of not being reciprocated puts a stop to his delusional thoughts.

*

Alfred is finishing preparing. Although he had given in to the rigidity of the protocol and allowed many things to Uhtred that he would never have permitted with others, preparing for the meetings was still too intimate for him so he preferred to continue doing it in private.

When he finally comes out. Uhtred turns his back on him. By his movements Alfred senses what is the reason for his frustration so he does not intervene immediately. He hides behind the screen again so as not to contribute to his nervousness.

It was not strange that this happened in a situation like this. Many nobles had had the exact same problem. It even surprised him that the boy had been able to do it without any hiccups other than his concern for his consent on the first day.

“Damn!”

Alfred sighs, deciding to end the situation.He really felt sorry for him but if he was not able to fulfill his task there was no point in them continuing in that room.

“Uhtred ..”

“I'm sorry, Lord. I don't… this…” There's a strange despair in his voice that goes beyond his wounded manhood. His gaze connects with his and for a horrible second Alfred fears the Dane will break in front of him. He looks away, unable to continue witnessing his anguish.

“Lord, I know that I can ... My body ...”

He continues in an unintelligible babble and Alfred wishes he could pull him out of his misery. To comfort him in some way. To tell him that this was normal, that it had happened to many others, that in his library he had read that it was due to pressure, that it was not his fault ...

But his place is not that. His place was beyond the common problems of men. He must be for his land. He had a duty and to fulfill it he had to forget himself. He had to forget he was Alfred to remember he was king.

“Uhtred, you've kept your promise. I'm not going to expel you from the kingdom. It is not necessary to prolong this.”

“ You do not understand!”

The king's words have the opposite effect as expected. Instead of relieving the other's tensions, it just increases them. A strong expression of indignation stains the Dane's features.

“If I don't succeed, everything will start over and I won't ..” He closes his eyes for a moment fearing to reveal too much. “You'll have to start over and it will be my fault!”

Alfred doesn't know what to say to that.

“I just ask you for a moment. Just, wait ...” He says and pulls his tunic over his stomach while turning around.

Alfred stays in place for a few seconds. For that reason he reproached himself for having chosen Uhtred. He knew he should be careful with him, that he could not trust ...

Because Uhtred had the ability to make him forget his place as king.

*

Uhtred is so caught up in trying to get aroused that he barely registers when Alfred moves in the direction of the doors. But when he hears the sound of wood creaking he can't denied it. He stops his movements. He feels his throat closing up but he does his best to avoid crying. He does not need another humiliation.

He waits for the other one to call the guards. But suddenly, it is another word that comes out of his mouth.

*

The bandages arrive after a few moments in which neither he nor the king speak again. Alfred takes them from the guard and closes the door again.

"Lie down." He tells him with his voice impossibly soft for a monarch. Uhtred does so and it is only in that instant that he is able to understand. He was so used to pain that he hadn't noticed that his wound had opened. Blood stained the bandages and threatened to overflow from them.

"It's nothing, Lord. I can..”

A glance from the king is enough to silence him. How was it possible that this man so delicate in his ways could exercise such great power over everyone?

“You'd end up making a mess. The sheets have been specially brought from Egypt” he warns him as he carefully removes the bandages that cover his leg.

Uhtred rolls his eyes. Even when the other's gesture was kind, he did not shy away from insulting him. Still he lets it go, lost in the unusual scene. His anguish and nervousness hadn't completely gone away, but that had brought him out of his state. A Saxon king tending to the wounds of a Dane was something that did not happen every day.

With the stained bandages removed, Alfred cautiously examines the wound on his leg.

“You should have remained at rest as advised by the healer. If you're not careful, you could end up losing your leg.”

Even die. He does not say it but the sentence is sensed in the air. Once the job is done, Alfred nods in agreement.

“I appreciate it, Lord.”

Alfred smiles briefly. It is so fleeting that it is like a lightning on his features. Still, Uhtred can see it.

Neither of them moves for a few seconds. The tension between them is a delicate little bubble prone to bursting at any moment.

"I am the one who should thank you." The king finally says after a moment. "Not only for what you've done to defend me but for this. Not blaming me ..”

Uhtred is unable to understand for a moment. His bewilderment evidently reflecting on his features.

“It's the most natural, of course.”The other continues with a light tone as if downplaying the matter. “After so many attempts it is the logical conclusion ..”

“Lord.”

Uhtred sits up on his arms to be level with the king.

“I don't think there's anything wrong with you.”

He expresses it in a way that seems to be an unquestionable truth and not just a belief. The king looks away suddenly taken by a feeling difficult to define. He had ignored how much he needed to hear those words.

Doubting his suitability as king had always been at the center of his concerns. Being able to take the place of his father and brother was a constant burden that kept him awake at night. Having an heir was just one of many tasks he had to fulfill as sovereign, but it was still crucial. It didn't matter how good he was as a king. If he failed, there would be no one to continue his legacy and all his efforts would be in vain.

And then that dane came out of nowhere to knock on the castle doors. To ask but also to give. Alfred was not so obtuse as to ignore the fact that despite his reluctance, despite his blasphemous beliefs, his arrogant attitude and his daring in front of him as an authority figure, Uhtred had played a crucial role in the development of the events of the recent times. His advice and disposition, though unorthodox, had been effective.

Even in aspects that did not directly concern the kingdom. Aspects related to his emotional well-being ..

"I will do it." He finally says when the silence lasts too long. “Lie down”

For a brief second, Uhtred doesn't understand. He is only able to do so when he connects his gaze with the king's. Surprise invades him but he still obeys. Slowly he drops his body back onto the bed. The mentioned Egyptian sheets welcoming him with a softness he had never experienced.

Once settled, Alfred lifts the robe above his waist. He stays like that for a moment and then looks at him again. Uhtred nods quickly. He couldn't speak even if he wanted to. Although they had spoken to relax the protocol, Alfred had never touched him that way.

A new kind of nervousness begins to grow inside him as the king closes his hand around his manhood. Uhtred closes his eyes. His touch is firm but gentle. His fingers hold it up and down his skin starting a rhythm.

At that moment, all his fantasies related to the pious sovereign of Wessex assail him. Soon it is too much for his senses and he cannot continue to watch him. An irrepressible moan escapes his lips as the king picks up the pace.

Alfred had focused on his task with the determination he used to display for everything. However, Uhtred's groan shocks him out of his concentration. His attention falls on the agitated face of the Dane that seems to fall apart with each movement of his hand and he is suddenly aware of the great power he possesses.

He had never experienced anything similar in that room. Without thinking, he straddles Uhtred, moved by this unexpected revelation.

The feeling of power, of control over what happened ...

The dane opens his eyes. His blue gaze clouded with his pleasure. Alfred leans over him penetrating himself. Uhtred's hands on his hips to help him sway.

Belonging.

Alfred receives him inside him and suddenly it is as if everything makes sense. Choosing Uhtred for the task, his irrational insistence on continuing his association with him despite his insolence.

In some way, everything is different because discovering that Uhtred is his, makes him feel with a greater power than the crown has given him.

His hips move forward and then the electricity felt encounters back runs through him again. He must lean on his arms so as not to fall on the dane. When he opens his eyes again, their faces are too close.

It has no sense. It makes no sense for the king to kiss the Dane's lips.

And despite that..

They devour each other revealing a dangerous attraction that could cost both their lives.

*

When the king opens his eyes an alarming sensation creeps through his body. For a horrible minute he doesn´t know where he is. Panic moves through his body, causing him to move suddenly.

“It's okay. Everything is fine.” The voice seeks to reassure him. “It has not been more than a second.”

Then Alfred understands. After their meeting, he had fallen on the Danish as a result of the accumulated exhaustion for so many days. The embarrassment makes him blush.

"That was inappropriate." He apologizes, separating himself quickly.

Uhtred doesn't seem in any way bothered by his company and that reminds him.

“Uhtred ..”

"I know." He looks at him with those eyes of a blue so clear that they could not hide his emotions.

“I know I cannot say anything about what happened.”

Alfred nods his head. Internally, he knows that he won't. Still, he can't help the certainty of knowing that Uhtred has a weapon against him, weigh on his conscience. He had gotten carried away taking the risk by exposing himself in this way. He couldn't make the same mistake again.

To be continue..


	6. Chapter 6

When he wakes up, the air just isn't enough. The images of the dream still invading his senses. His body instinctively rises to the bed, imprisoned by the intensity of emotion. He takes deep breaths until he is aware of how the sounds of his breathing fill the room. The noise in his mind finally ceases altogether.  
  
The king remains there for an incalculable time. He is not completely in the dark. The ghostly light of the early morning is gradually making everything more visible. The questions appear little by little. No longer the turbulent ferocity of sleep, his mind returns to work at its usual pace.  
  
How had he not noticed before?  
  
Alfred looks around the place. The low light casts strange shadows around him. He feels his body sweaty, the sheets tangled between his legs. With extreme slowness, he gets rid of them.   
  
If the signs were clear ...  
  
He sits on the bed. His feet are greeted by the soft lambskin under his bed. Absently, he runs his fingers over it, feeling the texture.  
  
How did I not notice before?  
  
He stands up and suddenly feels strangely light. As if a physical weight, of which he was not aware until that moment, had been lifted from his shoulders. He walks feeling that lightness at every step. His footsteps lead him to the window first. His people still sleeping. There was no one there other than the occasional dog looking for food in the houses.  
  
I need confirmation, of course ...  
  
In the distance the sun can be seen on the horizon. He takes a deep breath, absorbing the freshness of the morning.  
  
But there were no doubts ..  
  
Alfred leaves the window and walks over to one of the dressers. There, the foggy glass of a mirror receives his reflection.  
  
*  
  
Uhtred remains the end of his recovery in his own cabin. He has not been summoned to the castle again, so he only has to wait to hear the chimes that give the announcement. If they did. If conception had failed, he could never hear them.  
  
He hadn't heard from the king since their last night together which, coupled with the ban on activities courtesy of Beocca, only added to his impatience.  
  
"You must rest. You have already forced yourself a lot. If you don't take care ...”  
  
“ I know, I know. I'm not a child” He repeated rolling his eyes. He was exasperated by their excessive concern for himself. Although, considering that both Beocca and the king had witnessed his close encounter with death, it was no so strange.  
In theory,he could go out. They had even provided him with a cane to help him get around. However, the prospect of having to use it made him prefer seclusion. What self-respecting warrior would be seen walking with a cane?  
  
There wasn't much to do there, so when he hears the knock on his door that night he can't help but get excited.  
  
It is not a person but a fist who receives him from the other side. Uhtred clutches his bleeding nose with one hand, groping for his sword with the other. The shock of the impact barely lets him see but he would recognize that voice anywhere.  
  
“Have you gotten so used to the sheep that you live like them?”  
  
"Brida! What the hell ...?"  
  
Brida enters the cabin without waiting for any kind of invitation. Fetches the nearest pitcher and takes a long drink from it. Then she falls heavily on one of the chairs, observing the damage on the Dane's face.  
  
“A gift for having changed me for the Saxon king.”  
  
Uhtred spits on the ground in frustration as he searches for a rag to stop the bleeding.  
  
“Nevertheless, if I am completely honest, I must thank you. Ragnar has turned out to be a much more appropriate leader than you. Without his intervention we could never have assassinated Ubba.”  
  
"Ubba is dead?" He asks, half drowned. Blood running uncomfortably down his throat.  
  
Brida looks at him incredulously.  
  
“Did you not hear anything? We defeated Ubba, we are not in danger anymore ..”  
  
She continues but Uhtred doesn't come out of his shock. Relief becomes one with bewilderment.  
  
“Everything was in the letter I sent. I made sure it was delivered directly to one of Alfred's men.”  
  
Of course, Alfred. A heavy load descends on his stomach. He was sure that the king had withheld this information from him on purpose. Judging from her expression, Brida seems to come to that same conclusion.  
  
“Ah, he didn't tell you. That bastard didn't say anything to make you stay here. He's a prick ..”She kicks the nearest chair roughly.  
  
“I couldn't have left. I made an oath.” He answers without conviction, although he knows perfectly well that she is right.  
  
He didn't even know why he was so surprised. Alfred would always be that way. Manipulating, hiding information according to his convenience. He had surely imagined that the moment he knew he was no longer in danger, he would instantly return to the Danes.  
  
His oath had never been taken into account. His promise as empty words.  
  
Even when he had sacrificed so much in the past.  
  
Even though he had risked his life ...  
  
Alfred had never fully trusted him and that was the proof.  
  
*  
  
The guards hold him at the entrance as if they have never seen him in their life.  
  
I have to see the king!  
  
Uhtred had waited for Brida to leave before letting out all his anger but as soon as she was gone, he had headed for the castle. His indignation was so great that he had even forgotten the humiliation caused by using the cane.  
  
“You have to ask for an audience with him!”  
  
"You can't just show up!"  
  
Showing up was exactly what he had done in recent weeks. No guard had held him up so far. Evidently, the king's orders regarding him had changed.  
  
He watches the incredulous guards barely containing his anger. He's about to lash out at them again when Beocca makes his appearance on the scene.  
  
“For the love of God, what's going on here ?!”  
  
After giving his explanations, the father leaves in search of a solution. Uhtred sits down to wait, leaning against one of the castle walls.  
  
Simply absurd. If they knew that a few days before their king had changed the bandages on his leg, what would they think, then? Uhtred unconsciously runs his hand up his leg. Alfred had seemed concerned for him that day. Even then, he had ...  
  
No.  
  
This was not the time to think about that. He needed to be angry. He needed to muster his outrage so he could face him and then leave for good.  
  
He could be irrational in many of his decisions but he couldn't fool himself forever. Although, his attraction to the Saxon king was reciprocated, a relationship between the two was out of the question. It was simply impossible.  
  
*  
  
The king receives the announcement that Uhtred has requested to see him from a dismayed Father Beocca. It is evident that the man has no idea why the Dane is suddenly unwelcome in the castle.  
  
Alfred is busy with other matters at the moment so he does not stop to elaborate. The Dane will have to wait his turn like any other subject.  
  
Preserving appearances was important if he wanted to retain his place as an authority figure. Showing favoritism for Uhtred after their time together could raise unwanted suspicions. The suitability of his mandate had already been questioned before. The hard lesson learned from Lord Farstaff, led him to avoid gossip more than ever.  
  
On the other hand, he was aware of why the Dane was asking to see him. The letter with the news of Ubba's defeat had been in his possession for weeks. On several occasions, he had seriously considered sharing this news with Uhtred and yet something inside him had ended up holding him back.  
  
Frankly, he didn't think Uhtred would leave instantly knowing that he no longer needed Wessex's protection. He didn't think his engagement to him was an elaborate attempt to dupe him into his trust.  
  
But, despite that..  
  
It was dangerous.  
  
*  
  
Uhtred is finally summoned at dusk. The guard shakes him to wake him up. He knew Alfred would probably keep him waiting, but if the king was stubborn, he was even more so. He wouldn't leave Wessex until things were clear. With some difficulty, he stands up, helping himself with the wall and the cane. The pain in his leg accompanies him with every step.  
  
Alfred awaits him in the room where they set out the conditions of their meetings. This time there is no food on the table but a jug of wine with two glasses. Once the escort withdraws, the king invites him to sit with a wave of his hand.  
  
"Uhtred, you have requested to see me." The tone is casual and carefree. Uhtred notes that he is wearing a pale gray robe similar to the one he wore the first day they met. Those colors always made him look ethereal. No, he had to concentrate.  
  
“Yes, Lord. I have been informed that Ubba has been defeated ..”  
  
The other nods his head. At this point, Alfred knows that he could pretend to ignore this fact but chooses to be honest. Uhtred might not be worthy of all his trust, but at least he wouldn't insult his intelligence.  
  
“I know. An emissary communicated the news a few weeks ago. However, I chose not to reveal that information to you.”  
  
Uhtred feels momentarily lost at that recognition. He didn't even deny it. The indignation grows little by little within himself.  
  
"Why, Lord? Didn't I give you enough reason to trust me?"  
  
Alfred smiles briefly. It is a brief grin that does not reflect joy.  
  
"What would you think of me as king if I blindly trusted you? What risk would I put Wessex at?"  
  
Alfred couldn't put aside the fact that he didn't really know the Dane. That the time they had spent together wasn't enough to predict his actions and that was what bothered him the most. Despite his keenness to read people, this was impossible with him. For better or for worse, his behavior did not respond to what he expected, leaving him in a vulnerable position.  
  
Uhtred was dangerous precisely because his intentions were unclear. Because despite his sacrifices and his promises, he was still a Godless Dane, guided by his own convictions. If those convictions changed, his kingdom would be at risk.  
  
It didn't matter what he felt in his privacy. He couldn't completely trust him. His position as king did not allow it.  
  
"Incredible." Uhtred rubs his eyes unable to contain his frustration. Suddenly, he stands up and points to his injured leg.  
  
"Isn't this enough proof of my loyalty ?! What else do I need to do to make you accept me ?!"  
  
Alfred briefly closes his eyes. He could almost feel the fury of the Dane vibrating in the room. Despite that, he does not get carried away. When he speaks again his tone is calm but firm.  
  
“Uhtred, it is not about what I think or want but about what I must do. Ensuring the survival of Wessex is my job. It's the only thing that matters.”  
  
Silence.  
  
It was like running into a wall over and over again. It did not make sense. The anger then, turns against itself.  
  
What did he expected?  
  
An apology?   
  
Uhtred forgot that Alfred was not simply a man and that he would put his kingdom before all else. Even in front of himself. Suddenly, his plan to kidnap him to free him from his fate becomes a childish fantasy. He would never accept it, just as he would never accept the fact that he had lost Bebbanburg. Their fates were sealed.  
  
So that was it. There was no more to say about it. There had been no point in coming in the first place.  
  
“However..”  
  
The king looks hesitant for a second. He smoothes the robe over his chest in an unconscious gesture of nervousness.  
  
"Not to acknowledge the help received would be unwise of me." A small pause. An insecure smile can be seen on his features. “Maybe, I cannot place all my trust in you but without a doubt you are a man of your word.”  
  
It takes Uhtred a second to understand the implication in the king's words. When he finally does, he can't help the bubbling of excitement in his chest. Seriously? He takes a step forward victim of the sudden desire to take him in his arms, but Alfred stiffens.  
  
Oh yes of course..  
  
Uhtred forces himself to maintain his composure but can't help but smile at the news.  
  
“How long..? When?”  
  
He articulates foolishly without actually asking his questions. Alfred, fortunately, understands despite everything.  
  
“ I knew it this morning. Of course it remains to confirm with the healers but I am sure.”  
  
He had had all the symptoms weeks ago. Loss of appetite, dizziness, tiredness. The clues had accumulated until something inside him suddenly ordered them. He felt blissful in a way he had never felt before.  
  
“That's why my wish is to reward you for this. What you've done so far has been very important for Wessex. For me.” He lets those last words slide smoothly and Uhtred must summon all his strength not to go kiss him at that moment. Damn that king and his talent for making him forget his frustrations.  
  
“Cocham. Formerly it belonged to Lord Farstaff but I consider that you will be a more appropriate Lord for those lands. You can make it your home. You'll even be close to Winchester in the event of ...”  
  
“Lord, of course I am grateful but ..”  
  
Mixed feelings convulse within Uhtred. Alfred gave him the chance to be a Lord again. That his title was not a mere formality. His happiness would be complete if not were by the fact that ...  
  
“I already have a home. Bebbanburg is my home. My destiny is to regain what was taken from me.”  
  
It is as if an icy cloak has descended on the room. Suddenly, the warm enthusiasm for the news fades.  
  
"You don't want to stay in Wessex?"  
  
The roles are reversed. Uhtred is tempted to use his words against him "it is not what I want but what I must do." But he doesn't. He did not want to start hostilities between the two. Not so soon at least.  
  
“Is my destiny.”  
  
Alfred looks away. Rejection is visible on his features for just a second before disappearing. Of course Uhtred was dangerous but still, the prospect of his absence left him with an unpleasant emptiness.  
  
“Nevertheless, I'll be here for the birth. It does not matter what happens.” Again the conviction so typical of his person.  
  
Alfred's expression softens.  
  
Uhtred extends his hand across the table. After a few seconds, Alfred takes it. A subtle caress. It is just a crumb of what he really wants with the king but at least it is something until fate decided to join their paths again.  
  
End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Here it is! Sorry the delay but life just happened. I think a happy ending (sort of) once in a while is not going to kill me, hehe. Thank you very much for being with me in this journey. Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my native language, so sorry if you find mistakes!


End file.
